Autobots, Assemble! One-Shot: The Artist
by MiniKoontzy
Summary: While on night watch duty within Avengers Mansion, Galvatron stumbles across a still awake Captain America and discovers something surprising about him - he's a night-owl artist. *STAYING UP.*


**Autobots, Assemble!**

 **One-Shot: The Artist**

* * *

Galvatron personally enjoyed night watch duty within the Mansion. It provided a peaceful lull in the day-to-day battles and physical and mental struggles he faced in consequence. Most of the time he patrolled on one end of the building while his assigned partner – whoever that happened to be – patrolled the other end, preferring his solitude while it lasted.

His partner this night was Wonder Man, and he seemed just as content to enjoy his own solitude. He kept the communication line they used free of the idle chatter that other members of the team seemed to enjoy and crave so much. They would only contact each other to report in every hour or so about street activity, occasionally remarking about something they had seen out one of the windows or something that happened to be on their minds.

It was something both of them appreciated, this amiable silence only briefly broken.

The holo-form spread his wings and flew up to the second story where the bed chambers of the various heroes were located. He strolled past each one, noting that there were no lights coming from inside and betraying that that particular member was most likely sound asleep. He paused momentarily by Stark's room to hear the faint sound of tinkering and smiled. Tinkering was Stark's way of relaxing by forcing his brain to shut down for the night out of sheer exhaustion rather than by conscious choice. His hyperactive brain needed to be forced under rather than convinced. From the sounds of things he would be out fairly soon. It was nothing to be concerned about.

He continued onwards, doing his best to keep his heavy combat boots from making any significant amounts of noise. Some of the Avengers were very light sleepers and woke at the slightest sound, and he'd rather not interrupt their much needed rest.

However, one door towards the end of the hall spilled out a soft golden glow from beneath its sill and threshold. A cursory review of the Mansion's layout revealed that this was Captain Rogers's room. This was a little odd to him. On every other night he had been on monitor duty this door had been dark and locked. So why was light coming from it on this night?

Curiosity got the better of him and he lightly rapped on the door. He was rather surprised to hear the soldier's voice reply back right away, even if it sounded slightly muffled from the door and a little abstracted in tone.

"Door's unlocked." Cap's voice told him curtly, though not unkindly.

Galvatron twisted the door knob and poked his head inside the lit room like a curious winged kitten. His red eyes were alight with intrigue. This was his first time actually seeing the soldier's quarters.

Sitting at a large oaken desk with his back facing him was the soldier and official leader of the team. Items and papers and memorabilia were meticulously organized in its various cubby holes and drawers. Suspended from the ceiling above was a lamp that bathed the desk's surface in light. He appeared to be busily working on something, scratching away with a pencil and pen.

"What are you doing up?" the holo-form wondered curiously.

Cap scritched with his pencil a few times before replying: "Being comatose for seventy years tends to break your internal clock pretty badly. I've managed to somewhat correct it with some help from T'Challa, but there are some nights it comes on with a vengeance and there's not much I can do about it."

Galvatron's wings lowered sympathetically. Cybertronians themselves were also capable of suffering from insomnia if their processors or chronometers were somehow damaged. He was lucky that his own damaged chronometer hadn't resulted in a case of insomnia. Silently he walked forward to investigate what the soldier was working on so diligently. He thought perhaps it might be paperwork or something tedious, boring, and extremely dull in nature. Doing something like that was bound to force one's brain into sleep mode. Boy was his assumption dead wrong.

His red eyes widened in shock and awe at what was slowly forming on the piece of blank paper. He was unable to contain his soft but sharp inhale. It wasn't paperwork at all, but something far more beautiful in nature.

Taking shape on the blank piece of paper through the actions of his pen and pencil was an exquisite, meticulously detailed and shaded sketch showing the soldier, his shield raised high, charging into battle while emitting a silent rallying cry. Looming behind him with twin guns drawn was Optimus before his upgrades, battle mask retracted over his stern faceplates. It was drawn to look almost like a photograph had been taken of the moment, each movement caught in the process of being executed by the two subjects.

"You have quite the artist's gift." he noted.

"Yeah, well – you tend to develop a hobby to while away the hours." Cap clarified, shrugging nonchalantly as he continued to sketch. "I was always pretty good at drawing when I was younger. Those bad nights have just given me time to hone my skills further."

He gestured to a pile of paper on one side of the desk. "Feel free to look at those if you want."

Galvatron carefully plucked up the sheaf of paper. The top few leaves were what appeared to be random sketch dumps or sketch studies – some of team mates, some of villains, some of Autobots, and even a sprinkling of Decepticons and Predacons. A few were simply of random everyday objects such a lamps, shoes, and clothing, while others were of various weapons – some real, others imagined.

But past this random sketching was another drawing similar in nature to the one the soldier was currently at work on. This one showed a scene much lighter in tone. It showed Smokescreen, laughing light-heartedly, with one optic shut in a playful wink. On his shoulder was a familiar snarky archer cackling in uncontained merriment and jubilance while holding up a tool in his hand.

In small writing at the very bottom of the page were the words: _Mischief Makers_.

"Let me guess: You drew this one after they pulled a prank on someone, didn't you?" he assumed smartly.

The soldier smiled faintly. "Mm-hmm."

"Dare I ask who the victim was?"

"Magnus."

One black eyebrow rose. "...Those two have serious thrill issues."

He flipped to the next sketch, eager to see what else was to be seen. This man decidedly had talent, and he wanted to see more of it.

The next sketch was equally light in tone and feel. It showed Bumblebee and Wasp from the side. Wasp appeared to be happily babbling on about something or other with her usual boundless enthusiasm, gesticulating wildly with her tiny limbs while the scout politely listened to her every word, an obvious smile his optics. Raf sat perched on Bumblebee's shoulder, clearly interjecting comments and questions. There was a sense of innocent childishness about the whole sketch – of warmth and comfort. It made the holo-form smile just by looking at it. Despite being grayscale it was just so warm in tone. Captain Rogers truly knew how to capture a moment.

He flipped to the next sketch. It was another captured action scene showing Wheeljack, Bulkhead, Thor, Hulk, and Wolverine all seemingly ready to charge off the page and pound someone. Both Wreckers had their weapons out. Hulk was at their pedes, bellowing a challenge, fists at ready. Thor was high above the scene, hammer mid-swing as he summoned a thunderstorm, eyes sparking with electricity. Wolverine was mid-leap, claws retracted, a snarl of berserker rage contorting his face.

At the bottom of the page was: _Brothers in Arms_.

"I don't recall ever seeing this."

"That's just my imagination at work." the soldier admitted. "I don't always need a reference image to sketch from."

It looked so realistic though, as real as if it had actually happened. This man had a mind's eye as accurate as any professional quality camera. It was like he had photographic memory for not just real happenings but imaginary ones as well.

He swapped out the current top leaf for the one under it, revealing another sketch. This one was more mysterious in tone, a stark contrast to one he had just seen. It showed Prowl and T'Challa wandering through the dense jungles of what he assumed was Wakanda. Only their eyes possessed any color: one vibrant yellow, the other pale milky blue. But even without color to the rest of the image the shadows and shading made it feel very eerie and mysterious. He could almost hear the dozens of soft noises the two were no doubt hearing.

"Another imagined one?"

"Yep. I drew that one a while ago right after Prowl joined Team Prime. After seeing how well he and T'Challa got along one night I decided to sketch this as a means of merging the two into a scene familiar to Panther, but not familiar to Prowl. It was also good practice drawing for natural objects."

Ah. So it was a practice concept for this particular sketch. It hardly showed it. Everything looked very well done, clean and sharp and realistic. Certain parts were somewhat blurry, but that appeared to be intentionally done on his part in order to add to the mystery of the whole piece. To him, it seemed to be the viewpoint of an observer in the canopy, watching them...

The holo-form flipped to the next sketch in the stack. This sketch had a similarly mysterious air about it, but it also held a certain aura of adventurous intrigue that fit with the focus of the sketch. It showed Iron Man and Ratchet in a large cavern system, the inventor's armor emitting a broad beam of light from the chest. Tendrils of moss clung to the walls and draped down from above like curtains. He could tell the armored Avenger was excited. Ratchet on the other hand bore a slightly annoyed expression.

"That one was based off Tony's description of the place where the Nidavalier Norn Stone was hidden. Ratchet was also pretty descriptive, too. Tony joked that he got an 'Indiana Jones' vibe from the place, so I played off that a bit."

"A what vibe?" Galvatron wondered.

Cap smiled, continuing his current sketching. "Oh, right. You don't know about that movie series. Remind me to get Clint to show one of them to you at some point. You might like 'em. Indy's got your type of sass and resourcefulness."

The next sketch was rather simple and had a "slice of life" feel to it. It showed Ant-Man in his university entomology lab, sunlight streaming in from the windows. One of his hands was being held inside of a rounded cage where butterflies flitted about within. A single butterfly was daintily perched on an outstretched finger, wings spread out to reveal its mesmerizing pattern. Dr. Pym himself seemed lost in a daydream, a faint smile on his lips.

"That one was actually a request Jan put me to a while ago."

Galvatron smirked at hearing that. It seemed that Wasp wasn't shy about her complicated attachment to the size-changer, and Cap didn't seem to mind being indirectly dragged into the romance. It was a favor to a friend, after all – and who was he to turn her down? His chivalry demanded he oblige a lady's simple request.

"I haven't shown it to her yet, though." Cap admitted. "I intend to color it a bit first to add some more depth to it."

The commission was beautifully done as it was. He could only imagine what it would look like once some color was added to it.

Roger's admission made him wonder – did the rest of the team know about his artistic talents? Wasp clearly did. Had they come in on other nights before this and silently observed him as he worked, unwilling to break the peaceful silence? If so, then why had none of them bothered to mention it previously?

' _Frankly, would you have believed them if they had said so_?'

Well...No. No, not really. Internally he winced. It sounded a bit callous when he admitted his doubt like that, but in all honesty he would've taken such words with a grain of salt. He would've thought as leader of the Avengers he wouldn't have that much spare time on his hands. Leaders had an entire team to manage, though granted with the Avengers it was less "directly manage" and more "gently maintain". He never would've believed that a trained soldier had an artist's spark within him – Rogers even did commissions if he was asked nicely enough, and he appeared to do so free of charge. For him, it was just something immersing to do when plagued with sleeplessness, and if it made someone happy in the end then it was all well and good.

' _Never presume something unless you have enough information. Even if you think you know someone inside and out there is always something more to be discovered_.'

"You sound like a fortune cookie." Galvatron deadpanned.

Cap stifled an amused snort, hiding a massively entertained smile. Honestly, the dynamic between these two was absolutely side-splitting some days. Primus was the wise and level-headed one who was always prepared to lend a helpful bit of advice. Galvatron was the one who would unabashedly and unguiltily sass him back like a petulant child if said advice sounded corny to him. He wasn't afraid to backtalk a superior.

"Come on, now. Be nice." he scolded lightly, waggling his pencil at him behind his head.

Galvatron snorted softly, mumbling something under his breath that sounded awful lot like he'd just said:

"Well, he does..."

He refocused on the stack of sketches he held in his hands. There were only a few left before he reached the very first one once again. And these were no less expertly done and emotionally provocative. It became clear then these were not sketches but more miniature masterpieces. The amount of effort he put into each one – it boggled the mind.

The next one he flipped to was one set in deep space aboard a Kree vessel. Captain Mar-Vell stood on the bridge with his trusty crew members manning the various controls of the ship, arms folded over his chest. His gaze was riveted on the panoramic windows on the vessel's frontal portion. Visible outside was a faint streak of golden light shooting by, vaguely resembling a human form. It didn't take much to guess that the light streak was Ms. Marvel.

"This one must've taken you a while, considering how accurate the cosmic phenomena outside are."

"Yeah, that required a bit of research and help from Jarvis. And some advice from Tony about how the interior of the ship should look, considering we were on a scout ship and not a research vessel. But it was fun to do. I showed it to Mar-Vell and he really liked it."

He exchanged this one out to another that made him smile. It was unlike the others due to the simplicity of it. There was no real background to it other than some creative shading. In the center of the page was lightly colored Vision, frowning, brows scrunched together as he fiddled about with a Rubik's Cube in his hands. His white eyes were narrowed in concentration.

"That actually happened believe it or not." Cap smiled, glancing over at him.

Galvatron looked at him in surprise: "What's the story behind it, then?"

Cap switched his pencil out for his pen in order to ink in some lines before replying:

"It was about a week after he joined the team. Poor guy was bored and had nothing to do, so Tony – in all his wisdom – decided to test how fast his processor really was by handing him a Rubik's Cube as a kind of hand's on test. It was also intended to gauge his fine motor skills."

The soldier smirked: "It took him maybe two minutes to figure out the mechanics of the thing, and a little less than half a minute to solve it."

Galvatron nodded impressment. "Say what you will about Ultron – he knows how to design a good processing unit, even if the user turned on him and helped destroy him. That's about as fast as ours are, and that's impressive in it of itself considering how much smaller his is compared to ours."

Cap nodded agreement. It was the same as comparing – size wise anyway – the processor of a decent tablet to the one tucked inside the most up to date smart phone on the market. There was a considerable size difference but the speed was more or less the same.

The holo-form flipped to the next one, inhaling sharply at what he saw. The tone of this sketch was very different from the others he had so far seen. There was a sense of hopelessness about it – an air of darkness and despair. But at the same time there was an air of hope to it as well. It was a moving combination of both light and dark.

This image showed Winter Soldier, sitting and hunched over, his unmasked face buried in his gloved his hands, his unkempt brown hair hiding his face to where it was impossible to determine his expression. He could've been anywhere from exhausted to depressed. But standing tall around him with their hands on his shoulders were the four spectral members of Ghost Recon, and behind them was a vague, heavily blurred, shapeless white entity.

In small script at the bottom were two simple words: _Guardian Spirits_.

Unconsciously he put a hand on the sketch. This...in its own way it was utterly gorgeous. It seemed to call out to the viewer to understand what was going in this sketch, to make them want to take the assassin's hand in theirs and tell him that everything was going to be okay. It silently told the whole story of Winter Soldier and Ghost Recon in a way that words could never have possibly done.

"Hurts to look at doesn't it?" Cap murmured gently. "Jazz had me make a copy of that one for Bucky so he could keep it on him at all times – a reminder to never give up, because there are always going to be people out there who want to help you."

"Look at the last one." he urged after a moment.

Galvatron put the Winter Soldier sketch on the bottom of the sheaf to look at the final sketch. He did a double take at what he saw staring back at him on the paper. His red eyes went round in wonder.

This sketch was another action scene with traces of the same moving message from the previous sketch. It was also fully colored unlike the others, the contrasting colors vibrant in hue, clashing like opposing warriors. It was himself, his current self with all of the alterations made. And he was the main focus of this beautifully colored masterpiece.

He was charging valorously towards the great dark form of Unicron looming on the other side of the paper where the old Megatron, with his power mad and dangerous red optics, stood at the dark titan's pedes. The attacking mech's mouth was open in a scream of courageous defiance, the glyph-etched Falchion of the Fallen drawn and ready to lash out with it. Soaring besides the charging, opposing mech was a shining white bird of fire that lit the whole scene up. It illuminated his burning blue – not red, but vibrant blue! – optics.

Scrawled across the top of the page in big, bold, flowing white calligraphy was the moving phrase: _My Past is Not Today_!

Galvatron had the grace to let his jaw drop. It was absolutely stunning. He was utterly speechless. This was how the soldier viewed him – how the Avengers as a whole viewed him: a fighter, not just in the physical sense but in a more poetic sense. You could beat him down into the ground, even extinguish his spark entirely...but he'd just keep coming back tirelessly.

"Is this...? D-Did you...? I...!" he stammered. "This must've taken you ages to complete!"

Cap turned in his chair to face him with a smile: "You can keep it."

He stared at him, shocked: "What?"

"Keep it." Cap repeated, his smile remaining. There were dark circles under his crisp blue eyes. He looked tired but greatly satisfied.

Galvatron stared down once more at the powerful scene so perfectly portrayed. It wasn't a sketch but an artistic message the soldier had just handed him. It was a reminder that good always triumphed over evil, that light would always cast back the darkness. It showed that past actions didn't define someone's whole character. He looked back up at the gifted soldier, gratitude visible in his red eyes:

"Thank you."

Cap smiled, laying a hand on his arm. "Don't mention, pal. Now get on with your watch. Simon's probably wondering where the heck you went and searching the whole building for you."

With that the winged holo-form made his adieu from the room, quietly shutting the door with one last grateful, respectful look inside at the tired, still sketching soldier.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I've had this going in my head for quite a while actually. It's kind of a tribute to MCU Captain America who was shown to be a bit of an artistic doodler, but I kind of modified it a little. If someone out there reading this is an artist – oh my God I would pay you if you sketched these out if I had any money to give (currently job hunting of now…..:P)**

 **Secondary Note: PegasusDevice, this is not feels. This is just a sweet little moment between friends. It's not my fault that you're so sensitive! This is more "D'aaww!" inducing than tear-jerking.**


End file.
